LIBRARY OF CONGRESS, 
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UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 



Intellectual People, 



BY 

WILLIAM ADOLPHL^S CLARK. 







/i%a 



BOSTON: 
PUBLISHED BY THE AUTHOR. 

1885. 



.c* Is- 



Copyright, by 

William Adolphus Clark, 

1883. 



INTELLECTUAL PEOPLE. 



"Ye swell as though ye had conceived some great matter; 
but, as for that which ye are delivered of, who knoweth it 
not?" — Job. 



CULTURE. 



My theme is culture, and the cultured mind, 
Which looks with pity on the common hind ; 
Assumes the air of Fortune's favored ones, 
And through this life with self-assertion runs ; 
Be mine the task, however sad to do, 
To bring my subject clearly to the view ; 
Ignoring Fear and all its trembling train, 
As I go through the classic and the vain. 



2 INTELLECTUAL PEOPLE. 

From early life I 'vc loved to think how pure, 

The mountain streams which " to old Ocean pour ; " 

I 've loved to look upon the crystal clear, 

On beauty's cheek to note the beamy tear ; 

I 've loved to gaze upon the moon's bright face, 

As she her course pursues through vaulted space ; 

I 've loved in stillness, through the breathless night, 

To watch the planets in their steady flight ; 

I 've loved to look upon the flaky snow ; 

Upon the babe's soft eyes, its stainless brow ; 

I 've loved amid the forests oft to roam ; 

I 've loved, at sea, to watch its sparkling foam ; 

I 've loved to note the dolphins at their play ; 

The twilight facie at morn and eve away ; 

And on the land, amid its fruitful fields, 

To view its charms, and all which harvest j-ields. 



CULTURE. 3 

And why ? because delicious is the sense 

Of gentle truth and sweetest innocence. 

I 've loved to think that man might be as pure, 

Through culture's care, and learning's varied store ; 

But years have swept the fond conceit away, 

I see that Virtue 's something as a plaj- ! 

I see that goodness dwells alike with all, 

That it 's a part of both the great and small ; 

That none are better than they ought to be, 

Or love too well, O Christ, to follow Thee ! 

Then, come sweet spirit of the art of song, 
"Whose home is where there never can he wrong, 
Assist my strain and aid me to portray, 
How vice in culture holds too often swa}* ; 
Make clear my mind to see the human soul, 



4 INTELLECTUAL PEOPLE. 

In all its subtle working for control ; 

Give me the courage to lay bare the ways 

"The classic" take in their wild rush for praise; 

Then shall I show unto my fellow man, 

That life is mean, though based on culture's plan. 

"When from the womb the infant moves to light, 
To grow in strength for either wrong or right, 
Came it among a race of beings true, 
Culture would prompt it nothing vile to do ; 
But as it grows to think, to act a part, 
It gathers knowledge, and corrupts the heart ; 
While in that brain is stored vast sums of lore, 
In morals, manners, is the creature poor ; 
'T is taught the classics, natural laws acquire, 
Ethics engages, but with less desire ; 



CULTURE. 5 

Religion does, perhaps, excite some glow 

Of curiosit}* its truths to know, 

Yet, so much else there is the pride to please, 

Religion 's courted only at their ease. 

'T is Culture's policy to wing the wit, 

To scale ambition's lofty minaret ! 

To worship only at the shrine of pride, 

To shrewdly float on Knowledge's sunn}' tide. 

The moral sense, though trained the right to hold 

In schools and colleges, itself will fold 

In close retirement, when the mind ma}' be 

Planning and working, vanity, for thee ! 

The sacred rights of others are laid low ; 

Learning makes possible, directs the blow! 

For it will do far meaner acts than those, 

Who little else than honest impulse knows ; 



6 INTELLECTUAL PEOPLE. 

That force which " common things" ennobles more, 

Than all a Bacon's genius with his lore. 

Yes, honest impulse ! that is much jour need, 

Ye cultured swindlers of every breed ; 

If ye have learned all languages to speak, 

Have gone through Science, and through Latin, 

Greek, 
As Pascal, learned all — all there is to know, 
But not as Pascal, bowed in solemn woe ! — 
What boots your knowledge if you love to lie, 
To cozen ignorance and laws defy ! — 
If teems your brain with polished vice, to grind 
Whoever meets with j-our " accomplished mind" ; 
If for a debt you owe 3011 '11 slay by art, 
Reduce through chemistry the human part, 
Then to the wave consign the mellow mass, 



CULTURE. 7 

Concealment seeking for the crime — alas ! — 

What boots, I say, your culture, if your deeds 

Keep morals weeping — ever in its weeds. 

Yet, so it docs, in cases not a few — 

Scholastic rascals ever are in view ! 

When in the bookstores, they will steal so sly 

None can detect them but an expert e}e ; 

So, too, they '11 steal a brother author's brains, 

To lard their writings and increase their gains. 

No thieves are there so mean as such who .teach 

What's well to practise, and what's well to preach ; 

Oft will their efforts stir the studious crowd 

To flattering praise, and plaudits long and loud ; 

Yet, will they sin as serves to deck their wit; 

Lie right and left, where lying seems to fit ; 

They grow in grace no faster than may suit 



INTELLECTUAL PEOPLE. 

Ambition's ends, and all its vain pursuits ! 

Ye sons of knowledge, and ye daughters, too, 

This ma}' I say in perfect truth of you. 

Ah, well, what of it, since 't is right to be 

Guided by conscience, which is ever free ; 

Free to contract, and then expand by turns, 

As matters go, and classic daily learns ; 

For who, oh, icho can live by truth alone, 

Or kiss the hand that throws to it a bone ; 

Who, human, can his cultured head recline, 

And feel the bread he eats is bread divine? 

Do the}" not know " of intellect complete," 

The dirtiest morals get for them their meat? 

Do they not know that classes they despise 

Are far more honest, though perhaps less wise ? 

The}' speak not Greek, nor Newton's Princepts ken, 



CULTURE. 

Not cultured women the}', nor cultured men ; 
They cannot split the glorious right in two, 
By polished sophistry, as oft will you ; 
Their minds untutored in the ways of lore, 
Are barren deemed, and, as their pockets, poor; 
Yet, many have an honest love of truth, 
You 've somewhat slighted from your early youth. 
As to 3'our brain, from year to year has crept 
The learning which, alone, can make adept, 
In all those paths where figures go one wag, 
And that as culture, right or wrong, ma}- say, 
The cause of truth has gradual ceased to be, 
Naught but a plaything, classic, unto thee ! 
I know not, I, why thus should run to seed 
The moral sense, as more the mind we feed ; 
Yet, so it is/ the knavish most-by now, 



10 INTELLECTUAL PEOPLE. 

Bear polished intellect upon their brow ; 
Stupendous frauds, stupendous crimes abound, 
Too oft with those where cultured grace is found ! 
The petty thieves, the^eWy vile are those, 
Linked but to poverty and all its woes ; 
Who are imprisoned, while the genteel knave, 
Oft with success will judge and jury brave. 
Crime seems to lose its dark and hideous face, 
When classic minds may wear it in Life's race. 
That this is so, e'en they who run may read ; 
Culture to culture's aid will surely speed ! 
Thus have we doved-tailed, wits in specious wrong, 
Borne by the force of sympathy along ; 
Living as best the}* may on doubtful law, 
Their conscience worth not e'en a wisp of straw. 
Ah, well, what of it, pray ; is it not fair 



CULTURE. 11 

That intellectual xeorth should have our care? 
Be treated kindly, though in most things mean, 
80 rarely just, 'preferring the unclean ! 
But I could never see why Culture's grace, 
Should from her seat sweet justice e'er displace ; 
No less is crime, because the culprit's brain, 
Sparkles with knowledge, either sound or vain. 
I 'd to the hempen give whoever kills, 
To prison send who deeds felonious wills ; 
Nor would I care how learned the felon caught, 
The more he knew would sterner make my thought. 
Culture should crimes reduce and not increase, 
Should give society e'en greater peace ; 
In place of which, there is a constant dread 
Of startling outrage from the poorly fed ; 
None feel secure, and those aufait at life, 



12 INTELLECTUAL PEOPLE. 

Most fear the passions of its active strife. 
Religion but a partial check supplies ; 
Accomplished rogues "put through" what they 

devise ; 
And see no punishment for them but law 
Our courts administer — too oft but straw — 
A dubious slippery thing, the wisest saj', 
Damning more justice in its beaten way 
Than e'er was saved, with all its fervid glow 
Of classic lore, and ermine white as snow. 
What then are court*, if culture docs not arm 
The judge with conscience, his abiding charm? 
They are the slaughter-houses of the weak ; 
"Where wrong and poxcer dare 'gainst right to speak, 
And speak successfully by subtle art, 
Which there appears, to do its hireling part ; 



CULTURE. 13 

To gain a case, perhaps, which they should not, 
Were justice better loved and ne'er forgot. 
Lawyers will work for what they call a fee, 
While " strictly right" is hard for them to see ; 
Their heartless arguments, on culture based, 
Too often are b}- legal genius graced ; 
They '11 skin the client and they '11 blind the court ; 
Their wit, like other things, is eas}' bought ; 
If goes the case against them, let it go ; 
What cares the counsel for his client's woe ; 
His pay's in hand ! e'er long he may appear 
Against that client, to renew the tear ! 
These are our friends at law ; that cultured band 
Of sharp logicians, who but take our hand 
To take our purse, and often lose our rights, 
Heedless who suffers, whom their culture blights ! 



14 INTELLECTUAL PEOPLE. 

Of all the mean, the dirt}* ways of life, 

None can exceed the bar's accursed strife ; 

Where far too many, " sound in legal lore," 

In generous action are supremely poor. 

Once in a while a case is fairly tried ; 

The rules which govern squarely, are applied ; 

But most who litigate to get their dues, 

More than one half of what they claim will lose ! 

These noble classics, these high cultured minds, 

Against societ}' their wit combines ; 

And that which should to all a shield be found, 

By wit is broken, trampled to the ground ! 

The law, which every one should highly prize, 

The greater 2~>cirt have reason to despise! 

Their rights uncertain are, they see it so, 

And look on courts as sources foul of woe ; 



CULTUKE. 15 

They see false culture there, perverted wit. 
And meanness, often, where should honor sit ; 
The}- know the longest purse will win the cause ; 
And sneering say — " such, such, are human laws." 
Oh, is it strange when intellect delights, 
To make a chaos of dear human rights, 
And jurisprudence, science so divine ! 
To gross absurdities and rules incline, 
That those "unlearned in law," but loving truth, 
Brand law satanic and the bane of 3-outh? 
Cursing the culture which makes little clear, 
While burdening life with mam* a bitter tear — 
Oh, is it strange that sometimes they will feel, 
The sense of outrage to their bosoms steal, 
As see the}' learning with the devil leagued, 
Unto the false with eager footsteps speed ; 



16 INTELLECTUAL PEOPLE. 

Through which our world is made a fervent hell,. 
Where Virtue sighs to think it here must dwell ? 
That this is so, the dullest may observe ; 
Culture does not the cause of honor serve ; 
""Well, granted that 't is thus," Atrides says, 
Who aims to figure in false culture's ways ; 
••What if the right and wrong are somewhat mixed, 
What if in law there 's much which can't be fixed? 
Contention ever was the life of man, 
Make it ought else, O virtue, if 3*011 can ; 
The greatest pleasure, contradiction gives ; 
It is the zest, main spring of human lives ; 
What, would 3-011 have a calm from day to day, 
And wear your life so stupidly awa3'? 
What, would 3'ou have the law so very plain, 
You 've but to state vour case and score vour gain? 



CULTURE. 17 

Methinks, 'tis better, as we have it now; 

That none with certainty the Law should know. 

Right 's but a shadow, justice but a dream, 

Law is the plaything of a wit supreme ; 

What 's low must suffer, that the high ma}' be 

Admired the more as, Genius, born of thee! 

We lawyers like unccrtaint}', 't will drive 

The legal mind to study, and to thrive ; 

That is the source from whence our riches flow, 

That is the practice of the law, you know." 

So spoke Atridcs with a bloated pride ; 

Ready, at all times he, for either side. 

A manly practice this, I must confess, 

Which mostly thrives where man 's in most distress! 

Such facts made Godwin wish no bar might be, 

To foster wrong, while, Justice, pledged to thee ! 



18 INTELLECTUAL PEOPLE. 

Such facts as these made Bentham mourn the curse 
Of that black art which aims to make the worse 
Appear the better reason in the case — 
To win, by jockeying, the legal race ! 
Such facts as these do other minds compell, 
To own that law epitomizes hell! 
Whoever has its study dared essay, 
Will think it but a comi-tragic play ; 
A bat and ball where life is knocked about, 
And men are strangely counted in and out. 
These cultured minds, so trained to split a hair, 
Split human hearts, unheeding their despair ; 
Though high their rank, their lives are often low, 
Less worthy they, the more, perchance, they know 
On knowledge grounded, the}' are seen to wait 
With legal tcebs, to snare some trustful pate. 



CULTURE. 19 

With mind well skilled in taking in these flies, 
They are, in keeping them, well skilled, likewise ; 
They '11 eat the oyster while the shell the}' give 
To those who in their wicked art believe ; 
A precious set to guard the rights of man ; 
Find me a baser, Atrides, if j'ou can. 
M3* heart is saddened with a sense of pain, 
To see the cultured crowds so proud and vain ; 
Vain in the thought one little head can hold, 
All it may study of our little world ; 
See where a cheat may be successful done ; 
Measure the earth and distance to the sun ; 
Follow the lead of Blackstone and of Coke, 
"Whose thin distinctions much of mirth provoke ; 
Giving to custom such an airy turn, 
That right, like smoke, doth ever seem infirm ; 



20 INTELLECTUAL PEOPLE. 

Gazing with Newton on the vast unknown, 
Whilst thinking cutely of the things their own ; 
In part perceiving what there is of life ; 
And what will lead directly on to strife ; 
Knowing of nature but in small degree ; 
Too weak her subtleties to clearly see ; 
Vain of the nothingness of meat and drink, 
While proud to haughtiness of truths they think ; 
Which follies move one's common sense to ciy, 
Ye cultured nincompoops, O, haste to die ; 
The world, without you, might not be so wise, 
Nor near so wicked, nor so packed with lies ; 
If 3-e won't stand to manly honor fast, 
The world 's the gainer when your days have past ; 
No tear should fall when you are laid to rest, 
Of all things pestilent the vilest pest ; 



CULTURE. 21 

For ye have reason plumed to wing its way. 
Where craft and cunning hold triumphant sway ; 
In this j-ourself disgraced, dishonored God, 
Loathed when beneath, as when above the sod. 
Some of your number, I may say with pride, 
Will not, as Bacon, take a tempting bribe ; 
Or let a friend be hustled to the block, 
When friendship could his prison doors unlock. 
There are, thank heaven, 'mong the learned some 

minds, 
Which honest heart and polished wit combines ; 
Harvard, Marshall, Prescott — they are names, 
Which, trumpet to?igued, this happ}' truth proclaims. 
But such are as the stars which shine through skies, 
Where heavy clouds oft shade them from our e} _ es ; 
Those clouds of sorrow born of passions mean, 



22 INTELLECTUAL PEOPLE. 

'Mid " cultured classes" far too frequent seen- 

AVhere 'er we turn, whatever land we see, 

There knowledge seems with vice in love to be ; 

The wit of man and of the woman, too, 

Will more of mischief than good service do ! 

Only, as God his spirit to the heart, 

Through faith and prayer may graciously impart,. 

Can Learning's graces lead us on to act, 

Justly by all, in honor's rules exact. 

Ne'er could I see why Culture's force should sway 

The strong or weak from Conscience's beaten way ;. 

Yet, in some graceless, godless wit, behold 

A power which does this, crafty, bad and bold ; 

And as he pleads with cunning art a cause, 

Laughs in his sleeve at jury, judge, and laws I 

If any doubt a scoundrel at the bar 



CULTURE. 23 

May grow to be a bright and mighty star, 

And ride rough-shod o'er who shall then presume, 

To soil or pluck his waving, gaud}' plume, 

To call him rightly by his name, a knave, 

Learned though he be, and amiable, and brave, — 

If any doubt this, I their pardon crave 

When I proclaim them innocents, indeed, 

Who very much a guardian's vigils need. 

To me, the learned, who mould the times, seem wise- 

Mostry and only in their own fair eyes. 

Yet, if they could and would see how it is, — 

The error rampant and the lives amiss, 

They might, perhaps, in pity at the sight, 

Resolve to shape things somewhat more aright. 

They have the power — if the}' had the will — 



24 INTELLECTUAL PEOPLE. 

-All they affect, in righteous ways to drill. 
The masses look to Culture for their cue ; 
And, as they get it, wrong or right will do: 
If they perceive who lead in life, as wise, 
All training but the sensual despise, 
By which the base, the grosser passions thrive, 
And from the soul all higher thinking drive, — 
If they are made to feel a tender heart, 
Which pities suffering and takes its part ; 
Does what is possible in Christ's dear name 
To honor Him, and put who sneer, to shame, — 
If they suspect the cultured smile to see, 
To whom the}- bend, in love and awe, the knee ; 
And in whose name they offer prayer to God, 
"Who will through Christ redeem them from the 
sod, — 



CULTURE. 25 

If the}' conceive this worship all a farce, 
And both the covenants of lav: and grace, 
A sheer invention of the priests to gain 
Over the masses a despotic reign, — 
What will the}- do, hut quickly turn to those, 
Who, " greatly learned," the Christ divine oppose : 
The}* will not think that can be really true 
The " finest scholars riddle through and through," 
As they believe ; while Scripture laughs to scorn 
These puny critics of vain learning born ! — 
Who beat their brains against its deathless page, 
Thinking to shatter by their trutli's great rage 
The precious lore our Scripture doth reveal, — 
The Christian's love, his happiness, his zeal ! 
But though these critics, apt at vain dispute, 
Succeed in winning whom their wit may suit, 



26 INTELLECTUAL PEOPLE. 

Yet, all uiisJtciken stands God's "Word to-da}*, 
As first from sacred pens, it made its way ; 
A light and comfort to, who hold it dear 
Beyond all else — how wise, exact, sincere. 
Science can tell us of the road to wealth 
And fame — can help us get and keep our health ; 
Can well acquaint us with the laws which reign, 
Through, what of Nature, we ma} T chance attain; 
But short the distance we can go that way ; 
At second causes we are forced to stay. 
And when the whole of what is known to be 
" Truth proved beyond a doubt, as all may see," 
Is massed as evidence of Reason's might — 
To that unknown compared, how mean a sight! 
"What cause for boasting this, of wit of man, 
When all he knows we closely, careful scan ; 



CULTURE. 27 

When, what he proves, alas ! is nothing more 

Than as one pebble to the oceau's shore ! 

Yet will this pigmy, this inflated mite, 

So short of reason and so poor of sight, 

Set up a cry of fraud against a plan 

God has designed to bless conceited man — 

A Word Revealed of such unnatural cast, 

(Unmatched by writings of the present, past; 

That human wit, unaided by divine, 

Would not have wrought in this so misty line. 

It would have worked according to its way, 

Nor taught of truth, fair Nature gives no ray ! — 

But this doth Scripture ; yet bears proof that He 

Who made all things made this, O Man, for thee, — 

This precious Word, without which who can know 

The wrong from right — said not the wisest so? 



28 INTELLECTUAL PEOPLE. 

Said not the sage b}' whom was Plato taught, 
God must himself m^ke certain moral thought^ 
By word revealed in some decisive way, 
Else, would the mind no standard fixed obey — 
Else, would the mind, confused by self-conceit, 
In no one Master ever deign to meet ; 
But many schools would varied notions teach, 
And wrong as right would not infrequent preach. 
Yes, needful as this precious Word Divine 
Is thus confessed to be, yet " wits sublime" 
In these last days incessantly declare 
" Science is all for which we need to care ; 
That Scripture, or the so-called Word of God, 
Has had its day ! — should rest beneath the sod 
Buried from sight, no more to curse mankind 
AVith cruel wars and superstitious mind : 



CULTURE. 29 1 

Reason,, informed b\- what may now be known, 

Is all the God that human wit should own. 

If it shall fail us, there 's no other power 

We can avail of any day or hour. 

The Force creating earth and all we see, 

Has no more care for man than for a bee, 

Or flower, or aivy other living thing — 

To Reason only may we trust and cling. 

All prayers to it shall answered be, 

If clear the answer, wit, perchance, may see : 

All other gods are nought and cannot hear ; 

Nor know, nor care, for either smile or tear. 

We live and die no wiser than the dog ; 

If aught 's be3'ond, it is a dismal fog. 

The soul 's a myth, the supernatural, sham ! 

Sin never could, or will, or ought to damn / 



•30 INTELLECTUAL PEOPLE. 

But, if there is a soul, which liveth on, 
'T will have a body, with itself as one : 
We need not care about that future, now ; 
Of this life only do we really know." 
So prates ' w great Learning ; " writes the same ; 
Without remorse, or an}' blush of shame ! 
These writings circulate, are widely read, 
And man}' blight, to Christian teaching bred. 

So goes the times, b}' Culture thus adorned, 
Of pious living none too well informed ! 
Where it will end, whose vision can perceive ? 
How much the prospect should all thinkers grieve 
Since natural law cloth not oft make for right, 
But fosters wrong from tyranny of might! 
When Scripture fails to work its truths on man, 



CULTURE. 31 

And he exclaims, " Believe it, ye who can ; " 
Then lives as though no such a Word there is, 
The saddest fate must come to him and his ! 
The punishment is sure for who deny 
Their Lord and Master, and his truth defy. 
Their fall, like Lucifer, will be so low 
And everlasting, they will cry, " Ah, woe! 
Great woe is mine, yet, is there no relief; 
Christ will not pardon us this sin in chief, — 
Dread blasphemy! that deadliest of wrongs 
To hell, and hell alone, of right belongs." 
Such, drifting are, on Culture's vicious tide, 
Far, far away, from where they should abide — 
Fast by the oracles of God whose will 
Therein is clear, while Nature baffles still ! 
Is it for this — this reckless unbelief, 



32 INTELLECTUAL PEOPLE. 

This overwhelming, bitter, constant grief, 

That mental training is so freely given 

" To help us here, and on, if there 's a heaven? " 

How blessed are any, or for heaven meet, 

Who only learn what fosters self-conceit ! 

Who say " mankind have outgrown God in Christ ; " 

That " truth alone in Nature doth consist; " 

Who mostly live a sensual, selfish life, 

Ready in courts a disputant to knife ; 

Though just his cause, and worth}- of success, 

Yet, must he lose it — Law, the wiliest bless! 

Oh, when will God the selfish human heart 
"Which a-it combines, inspire to nobler part? 
When shall the weak securely hold their own 
Against all power, even to the throne? 



CULTURE. 

That time is coming, it is drawing near ; 
Christ, as is promised, soon will reappear, 
To judge the Devil, and who favor Jiim, 
Content to live the shameless pests of sin. 
When He on earth shall reign, then will obtain 
Justice for all who love His hoi}' name. 
Satan confined, the wretches of his sway 
Will slink, as darkness from the light, away ; 
Millennial peace and J03* will be for those 
Who do not Christ, in any sense, oppose : 
With Him in power, the sinful will not dare 
To injure whom, the Saviour's love doth share. 
Laugh you at this ? ye demons in the flesh ! 
Whom God permits his servants to enmesh 
By sorrows many, through your carnal minds 



34 INTELLECTUAL PEOPLE. 

And much good fortune, which with strength com- 
bines, — 
Laugh you at this, indeed ? Prepare to see 
God's word fulfilled — at every line — of thee. 
The wicked^ it is writ, will cursed remain, 
This life their portion, endless death their gain ! 
Think 3-ou, the glorious Christ will fail to give 
Their due reward to those who disbelieve 
In Him as Saviour, Prophet, Lord, and Friend? 
Hath He not said how such base souls shall end ? 
Culture, indeed ! — what wisdom should delight 
The Son of God, denying Him his right? 
What human wit, however grand its range, 
May in the Word one single purpose change ? 
And if that wit be dead in unbelief, 
What more can Christ accord, than deepest grief? 



CULTURE. 



35 



Better by far, if Culture gives away 

The souls of those which are for vain display, 

To doubt and disbelief in Holy Writ, — 

Better by far these souls had ne'er been born, 

Than on the rack of Christ's displeasure torn ! 

True wisdom is to firmly stand for Him, 

And shun those studies which such light will dim : 

They lead to thinking, that will profit naught, — 

Confused, uncertain, ay, and evil thought ; 

To doubts of God, of everything unseen, 

To picturing all things, simply, as a dream ; 

But, if by Christ we stand, as Master, Friend, 

We know how life began, how it will end ; 

We know how we should live to peaceful die ; 

How, on Christ's word, we ever may rely ; 

We kindly think of every one who strives 



3G INTELLECTUAL PEOPLE. 

On Hory "Writ, to squarely base their lives ; 

We seek to aid them hold the faith professed ; 

To serve them when, by unkind fortune, pressed. 

One Lord we have, a Master we revere, 

Whose cause we love, and have at heart most near : 

Such is a brotherhood worth all the fame 

The learned in doubt, may gather, as a name — 

Vast in the knowledge of the ways to draw 

Many to science from God's written Law : 

But, who may sneer, at Christian faith shall feel 

No joy in that, but rather woe than weal. 

From such we turn — how cultured they may be — 
As Satan's own, averse, O Lord, to thee. 
Yes, intellectual people ! who should raise 
All social, business life, to Scripture praise, 



CULTURE. 37 

In numbers large use all the means they can 

To curse with vanity the creature, man ! — 

To set him up above where he should rise ; 

On Reason perched, disputing with the skies — 

Believing, yet, he will out-measure all 

Therein that 's grand, which natural laws we call ; 

Though, ignorant still, of how these laws obtain, — 

The simplest, even, puts his wit to shame ! 

Sad, sad it is, such numbers lead the wa}' 

To boastful Reason's stupid, godless sway ! 

This bad example tells upon the crowd, 

Who, in their turn, of unbelief are proud ; 

Doubting of all the senses can't discern, 

With Holy Writ they won't themselves concern. 

Yet, could these see, in those who ever stand 

High as to wit, and high, too, in command, 



38 INTELLECTUAL PEOPLE. 

A tone and temper in accord with Christ, 
The good example 'few would e'er resist. 
Whom fortune places far above the mass, 
Are watched by these, a most observing class ; 
And, as their leaders and their patterns go, 
So will they follow — be it weal or woe ! 
Important much it is, whom God has given 
Good wit and culture to prepare for heaven, 
That they should not mistake their duty so, 
In other ways than Christian paths to go — 
Drawn off by vagaries, not unlike some dream, 
To bide with those, who make themselves supreme ; 
Who, 'gainst the oracles of God, declare, 
Upon Him waging an eternal war ! 
That is a culture false, which wrecks the faith 
In Jesus Christ — his birth, his life and death ; 



CULTURE. 39 

Wkate'er we know, we've little learned, indeed, 
If we know not, how much this Guide we need. 
Wisdom from science may delight our pride ; 
But peace, alone, the Saviour can provide, — 
That moral certaint}*, He taught, as God ; 
In whom we rise, triumphant from the sod. 



40 INTELLECTUAL PEOPLE. 

AUTHORSHIP. 

As once I sat beside a beauteous stream 
Where poets came to idle and to dream, 
Far from the cit}-'s hum, the city's crimes, 
So manifold in these blasphemous times, 
There walked one near of prepossessing air, 
With dark prophetic eyes and flowing hair, 
Whom well I knew, and beckoned to my side, 
Where sat he down, to ease and I, allied. 
Some pleasant chat we had. 'Twas then he chose 
To speak of authorship and author's woes : 
So I, well pleased, encouraged the discourse, 
Which he began with earnestness and force : 
" Of all the vile and dirty work that's done 
Beneath the rays of yon all-glorious sun, 



AUTHORSHIP. 41 

The pen and those who wield its ' magic power ' 
Excel in wickedness through every hour. 
What I essa}- will be to clearly show 
Wherein the blessing, and wherein the woe, 
Which springs, alike, from labors of the quill 
So man}* venture, and so few with skill. 
When, in my youth, I looked upon this life, 
And saw few friendships unassailed by strife, 
I turned to those who through the pen would say 
Such noble thoughts, I longed to be as they; 
I longed to write, to live, to think for all ; 
To feel, in Truth, I had a special call, — 
To plead for her, to champion all her ways, 
And pass in jo} r the balance of my days. 
Unto this cause I gave my mind and heart, 
Hoping to play a noble champion's part : 



42 INTELLECTUAL PEOPLE. 

' Naught low, or mean, or useless would I give 

To feed the public that I, too ; might live. 

The sea of trash which surged within my view 

Much did I loathe, and its base authors, too : 

The soul of honor in the trust I bore, 

This stench of wit I could not but abhor. 

My spirit seemed to wing its flight to God, 

And I would tread where only Right had trod ! 

I Avrote what pleased me, what I thought was well, — 

I struck for heaven, as opposed to hell. 

Full of the spirit of an honest pride 

In that sweet truth for which I could have died, 

I sought the publishers to aid my cause ; 

But they, enslaved by self and selfish laws, 

Could not do much for ' authors little known,' 

How well might be what from their brains had flown. 



AUTHORSHIP. 43 

They said that ' they were full,' and sent me where 

Some other pubs like fulness would declare : 

My thoughts, ambition, hopes were naught to these 

Nor cared they me in any sense to please. 

I must a name acquire, then, thej* would say, 

' Welcomed art thou, we like you much, you pay; ' 

But for that name they would not stir a peg, 

E'en though I kissed their hand, or knew to beg. 

I felt repulsed when I would do a good ; 

It stirred my ire and it boiled my blood. 

Despite, howe'er, the usage I received, 

O'er which the sensitive are often grieved, 

I quietly reviewed these little men ; 

And smaller even seem they now than then. 



44 INTELLECTUAL PEOPLE. 

" Yes, in my youth, while 3-et by fancy led 

To think all fair whose writings fairly read, 

I deemed that authorship was truth itself — 

A mine of Pleasure's richest, purest pelf. 

But ' distance lends enchantment to the view, 

Ami robes the mountains in their azure hue ; ' 

It gives to Letters a deceptive smile, 

And cloaks in beauty what, too oft, is vile. 

Now, young no longer, and no longer blind, 

1 sec all life with clear, unclouded mind; 

Knowing most teachers of mankind to be 

As mean, vindictive, as we care to sec ; 

While those who publish that which they may 

write, 
By practice sharp, to bitter thoughts incite ; 
And these two forces, leagued in • Truth's behalf,' 



AUTHORSniP. 45 

Oft luck the worth of some fat kicking calf. 

Yet do the public, by these angels taught, 

Rarely consider but the book that 's bought ; 

If it is pleasing, all the wrong behind 

Is quite unheeded by the reader's mind. 

So has it been, so will it ever be, 

While those who read continue not to see 

The channels whence to them instruction flows — 

The arts of publishers, the author's woes ! 

" Would readers, students, only nurse a pride 

In having Right o'er authorship preside, 

The souls which live to send their thoughts to them 

Through publishers, might have more self-esteem ; 

I sa}-, might have, because I am not sure 

If every friend to genius, Letters, swore 



46 INTELLECTUAL PEOPLE. 

To read no books which came not from a press, 
Whence came not, also, wailings of distress, — 
I am not sure, I saj', that this would gain 
For Justice more than couples with a name ! 
The traders who have drank from author's skull, 
Since books were made, their costly wine in full, 
Will ever strive, I fear, to drink so still — 
With tliem 's the power, with them 's the wicked will ! 
Some think it right to do what they may please, — 
An author's interest it is fair to squeeze ; 
And, as he can't be circulated well 
Without some publisher his worth to tell, 
He must submit to what these sharpers do, — 
Those who demur are ' the superior few ; ' 
He must submit to what, perchance, they win ; 
Cheat or no cheat, they are of need to him. 



AUTUOKSIIIP. 47 

Yet, are there publishers, whose sense of right 
Is active ever, and their dealings straight ; 
They know an author has an author's pride, 
And with all wits their profits fair divide. 
Yet, it is true, O Letters, all supreme ! 
Honor oft blushes at the counter mien : 
Conceived in fraud, and frequent born in shame, 
What hast thou but a most unsavory name ? 
Thou teachest strangely what is love and truth, 
To nurse the virtue which may be in youth, 
While, in the mysteries that breed thy life, 
There 's little else than mean, disgusting strife ! 
So that, to write as one would write, and be 
Uncurbed by those who 'd not have genius free, 
There oft should be unto the author's name 
The means to print, as he may nobly aim. 



48 INTELLECTUAL PEOPLE. 

A curse are they with moral sense so small 

They '11 print, no matter what, but make the call, 

(E'en though the taste is bad as bad can be,) 

To nurture sin and weaken, Virtue, thee. 

Go through the bookstores, lay your hand about, 

Pick up a book, and ten to one it 's stout 

In merest nothings, and the money paid 

Is thrown away by boy, or man, or maid. 

To making books there surely is no end ; 

While truth and sense are on their last defend. 

Most men who publish are a worldly crew ; 

Will give you poison, if naught else will do ; 

Debauch your taste, lay waste your heart and mind, 

And all for money ! — this it is we find 

The why and wherefore of the trash on sale, 

Before which sights the bravest hearts will pale. 



AUTHORSHIP. 49 

How can it be that those whom God has given 
Inventive wit, which dares its flights to heaven, 
Will prostitute its powers to get in print, 
That sin may revel in its darksome tint, — 
To please those publishers whose evil wants 
Demean the pens, which that desired grants. 

' k There are who write what none could ever read 

Without acquiring some goodly seed, — 

Something to plant within their souls to bloom, 

Dispelling somewhat of Life's shades and gloom ; 

Yet, are the}' told, ' their writings will not go, — 

That sales, if an}', would be only slow : ' 

They should their minds and conscience trim to suit 

The taste, the fancy, of some human brute; 

Or, write for those whose simpering, mincing ways 



50 INTELLECTUAL PEOPLE. 

Forbid them books intelligent to praise ; 
But, love-sick twaddle and the passion's glow 
Is what they favor, all the}' wish to know ; 
Some vicious Nana, or, a tale like this, 
Is what will suit the master and the miss. 
If there are those who love to spend their days 
(Deemed to be geniuses) for such to praise, 
I envy not the fame that 's so acquired ; 
B3' me such praise could never be desired. 

" "Who dare in verse to cast the laws of things, 
To tell of Nature and the forms she brings ; 
To picture forth the secrets of her fame, 
Their perfect concord with the Christian name, 
Yet sees such works, conceived with purpose high, 
Which teaches how to live and how to die, 



AUTHORSHIP. 51 

Neglected, as a labor for an age 
When trash and humbug may not be the rage ; 
Obliged to wait till comes that welcomed day 
When ' what is sound, to publish tJien will pay ; ' 
Obliged to wait while jackdaws flap their wings, 
And all cry out ' What lovely darling things ! ' — 
May well express some sorrow deep to find 
So given much, to trifling things, the mind. 
Whose is the life which could be better spent, 
Than on such works, on truths so needed bent? 
What poet writes the nonsense of the heart, 
Who should precedence take of them in Art ? 
They who aspire, through verse, to give to God 
As real a presence as the green grass sod ; 
While shallow poets but rehash the song 
Of love, and all its self-same stories long. 



52 INTELLECTUAL PEOPLE. 

Well, these can wait, and if, perchance, they live 
Beyond this life (as I will e'er believe) , 
Well will it please them from their spirit home, 
To see on earth the time for them has come, 
When men and women will their works desire 
To read with care, as they to thought retire ; 
Which treat of matters that should pleasure all, 
And from misuse of life each reader call : 
Revealing truths, whence lasting interest flows, 
Whence, true delight, because of what one knows ; 
Whence, oft misfortune, may assuage its grief, 
And find in age or youth, to tears, relief 
Through God in nature, which around us lies, 
Whose beauty lights the earth and spans the skies.' 
So spoke the poet, sadness in his eyes 
From deep emotion, feelings some despise, — 



AUTHORSHIP. 53 

Those heartless worldlings who can never know 
A poet's passions and a poet's woe. 
He spoke and paused, and then began again ; 
Thus ran his speech in clear and earnest strain : 
" Once, on a time, I went for generous aid 
To one who dealt in verse — a godless trade ! 
Through him and him alone my hope must be 
Of getting readers for my poetiy. 
c The verse was clever, subject fresh and new,' 
But from my pen the Muses would not do ; 
fc I had no fame,' enough were famous now, 
Who wore the bays upon their saintly brow. 
And so, this keeper of the keys in Art 
Poetic, playing an exalted part, 
With face so hairy, full, and round, and fair, 
And step so light, and manners free from care ; 



54 INTELLECTUAL PEOPLE. 

With speech so soft and gentle, one would sa}*, 

He rareby sought, or seemed to want his wa}' — 

This smooth-tongued beaut}' of a certain set, 

Who think in verse their genius should be pet, 

Said to me softly, }*et unknown to fame, 

' To print your works would be to us no gain ; 

We have enough to do for those who write 

For polished tastes, alone, and minds polite.' 

But said I then, ' You will your imprint lend? ' 

i 
' That, sir,' said Beauty, ' we do not extend 

Beyond the works we rightly call our oicn ; 

No sooner published than the}' well are known.' 

T was, now, I looked in Beauty's gentle eyes, 

And saw them full of just such kind of lies. 

I said no more, but went upon 1113' wa3', 

Smiling to think what little things will pay. 



AUTHORSHIP. 55 

The public ran for Mtn, because, bis art 
Of clever humbug seemed to touch its heart ; 
But, could it know him as he knew himself, 
Or, as God saw him with his fame and pelf ; 
Or, as some knew him through their common sense, 
'T would say, ' Thou whited sepulchre, Oh, hence ! 
Out of my sight that other sights than thee 
May come to comfort and to solace me.' 
How such a fellow could position gain, 
Which gives the bit to genius and the rein ; 
Commands the friendship of that brilliant mind, 
Who painted Nature with a heart so kind ; 
Whose novels sparkle with deific power, 
In characters we meet through every hour — 
How such as he — a soul all dead to truth 
Except what served him and his own, forsooth — 



56 INTELLECTUAL PEOPLE. 

Could get and keep the place that he doth fill, 

Is not explained — it is a puzzler still. 

But oft it happens in the ways of life, 

A harlot passes for a virtuous wife ; 

Through art, by art, these wonders are attained ; 

And so, by art this fellow got a name. 

Well, let him keep it ; in those realms beyond, 

"Whence he has gone, and all of us are bound, 

There shall he stand, unmasked^ a little thing. 

To whom so many would sweet offerings bring. 

'< When, in my youth, and rosy seemed my way. 
And authorship a pleasure that would pay. 
I plumed my wing to soar with Truth alone. 
My conscience ever healthy in its tone. 
Oh, how I revelled in that bliss so sweet, 



AUTIIOnSIIIP. 



57 



Which waits on Ignorance's misguiding feet ! 

But abject quilhncn of time-serving wit, 

For dirty jobs in Letters only fit, 

Have stayed my dreaming and its pleasures sweet — 

Authors now seem the meanest men I meet. 

A few there are whose virtues keep them true 

To what, O Father ! thou wouldst have them do ; 

But most who write for publishers and bread, 

Alike to honor as to truth are dead ! 

As clay, within the potter's hand, they yield ; 

Assume such shapes adapted to their field, 

And to the Shylocks of the paying press, 

Who, wanton-like, love artifice in dress. 

All hail ! ye trimmers of an art divine, 

Who prize so highly works you claim as thine ; 

Yes, thine alone, not borrowed or purloined; 



58 INTELLECTUAL PEOPLE. 

But from 3'our brain by honest method coined, — 
All hail ! I say, so dove-tailed and secure, 
So sweetly winning and so saintly pure — 
Your compact is a thing so shorn of man, 
Let those fall down and worship you who can ; 
There are who will not praise what the}' despise, 
Though others may the same thing dearly prize, 
And read the nonsense 3*011 combine to print 
In folios countless, with no wish to stint ; 
But would you stint in this, yet, liberal where 
A generous act would make some life more fair, 
That they could praise, and much admire, too ; 
That they could credit, cheerfully, to you. 
But, sa}-, Authors ! ye of fair renown, 
Brimful of nonsense from 3-our feet to crown ; 
Oh, say, if those who run the press through thee 



AUTHORSHIP. 59 

Seem to delight in paying you your fee : 

Do they not cheat you when the chance is theirs ? 

Are they much mindful of your pressing cares ? 

Would they a tear drop o'er your pleading grave, 

When there you lay, a broken-hearted brave — 

' Knight of the quill,' who drove it them to please. 

To give them capital and much of ease? 

If tears they shed, 't would be that no more thou 

Could at their bidding make the ready bow, 

And put thy wit in such desired dress 

As would their coffers fill, their self-love bless : 

Such crocodilic grief the gods behold 

As wits reward in this vainglorious world. 

The man of genius, if he wield the pen, 

Too oft 's the sport of base designing men : 

Had he the means to print, as he would write, 



60 INTELLECTUAL PEOPLE. 

N 'er subject to another's oversight, 
There would to him be left a name to prize, 
Worthy of love in his all-seeing ej'es. 
But, as the trade goes on like any trade, 
And books for money mostly now are made, 
The crowd of authors will their stomachs fill, 
E'en at the cost of flooding earth with ill ; 
Their conscience is a thing of plastic kind ; 
80 good or evil streams from out their mind 
As it may pay, or publishers demand — 
Such writers take they freely by the hand. 
Well, let them take ; the devil knows his own, 
And wits are devilish which to this have grown. 
Yet, praised be God, some in the Pen delight 
Who will not flourish by ignoring Right ; 
Nor seek to prosper by a pregnant knee, 



AUTHORSHIP. 61 

Crooked but for thrift — a fat though Christless fee : 

These do not take to dark, ignoble ways, 

To money get bj- courting vulgar praise ; 

They were not born to be the slaves of sense, 

And sell their souls for shillings, pounds, or pence ; 

The}' are the enemies to knaves and sin, 

Nor plaudits loud by favoring wrong would win. 

As goes the custom in this ' art divine,' 

Mone} r secures most an}' sort of line ! 

Which flatters follies, what is good strikes down, 

Scornful of those who on such baseness frown. 

" I can but pity and despise the life 

Which falls so readily beneath the strife 

Of wrong with right, of shame with honor's pride, 

And all for name on Fame's incoming tide. 



62 INTELLECTUAL PEOPLE. 

Give me that soul, which, graced with rarest gifts, 

Rises to God — to Him his creatures lifts ; 

Spurning the paeans of a faithless crowd 

"Which for its favorites daily shout aloud — 

That soul I love, that soul can trusted be ; 

That soul, O Father, is beloved b} r thee ! 

That soul would authorship make sound and pure, 

And as Sir "Walter would not e'er endure 

A word which, dying, it could wish to blot — 

This was the standard of the pen of Scott ; 

This is the standard which alone can give, 

To high-toned genius an}' wish to live. 

The literary sculpins then would cease ; 

These graceless creatures no more could increase ; 

And time not distant would behold them all 

Extinguished fully, past, 'perhaps, recall. 



AUTIIORSHIP. 63 

Oh, haste that time, that happj* time when trash 
Will cease to please, or largely ' draw the cash ; ' 
When verse no longer shall mere lies convey, 
To please the fane}*, vulgar passions swa}* ; 
When genius shall to truth be true as steel, 
Though lightly loved, and scanty be its meal. 
What 's worth the praise, what 's worth the cursed 

gold 
Of those who buy you — to their purpose sold ! 
Teach them to know, 3*011 '11 write to make your mark 
Only as conscience fans, Ambition's spark ; 
That what you write shall be what all ma}* read, 
Nor lose their time, nor morals make to bleed. 
The vain, time-serving Authors of the day, 
But fool their own and other lives away. 
If in the pulpit the}* may chance to be, 



64 INTELLECTUAL PEOPLE. 

They '11 put, Jehovah, outrage near to Thee ; 

With no religion but the love of praise, 

No work 's too dirty if 't will plaudits raise. 

If goes this on, with it will go the right 

Which Freedom snatched from out the grasp of 

Might ; 
The right to govern self, to be a man / 
To think, to act, on one's own chosen plan. 
A Press debauched by wits because it pays, 
Must bring to speedy close these prosperous days. 
Nations decay when genius won't aspire, 
To check the people in each mean desire. 
Where it unites with them in sordid life, 
Comes havoc quickby on the wings of strife ; 
And throats are cut as pastime for a mob 
Which gloats o'er blood, and laughs to hear the sob. 



AUTHORSHIP. 65 

My heart is sad, my spirit chafes to see 
What may proceed from authorship and thee, 
When ' pens employed ' write only of what sells. 
Ignoring Conscience, which 'gainst this rebels." 
Thus spoke the poet as his eyes flashed fire, 
And lashed his soul by proud and honest ire. 
He paused a moment, then went on to say 
More of the subject in his former way : 
u Wherein the blessing and wherein the woe 
From quillmen's labors, I 've proposed to show. 
Blessed are those authors and those readers, too, 
W T hose books delight, yet never injure }'ou. 
There are not many of this class who gain 
Distinguished honor in a world-wide fame ; 
Yet, they who '11 follow these and cheer them on, 
Will keep those ways where love is surely won ; 



66 INTELLECTUAL PEOPLE. 

Those ways of pleasantness, those paths of peace, 
Where kind!}' thoughts and kindly acts increase ; 
Where the deep sorrows of an evil life 
Are all unknown with its malignant strife. 
Herein is blessed who reads a wit so given, 
Who 'd have us know, while yet on earth, of heaven j 
Who 'd plume our minds and hearts to mount to 

God, 
To bear with patience his chastising rod ; 
Who 'd have us prize the beautiful in all, 
And at Truth's shrine in bending posture fall ; 
Who 'd teach us how to live, and how to die ; 
To love our Maker, naught in Him decry, 
E'en though with tears he floods our dail}- bread ; 
Yet, will such authors, by God's spirit led 
Keep us to Him who chastens those he loves, 



AUTHORSHIP. 67 

Yet ne'er forsakes his suffering, pleading doves. 

This is that genius whose delightful power 

Can bless with peace when saddest is the hour : 

Go to its works, and from their fountains draw 

That life of Truth which flows for rich and poor. 

Such mind, in whatsoever art it lives, 

More in the right than in the wrong believes ; 

And rarely can be led to waste its powers, 

As on the desert air, the sweets of flowers. 

If those have lived whose large, surprising wit, 

Has run in ways for virtuous minds unfit, — 

If such there are in authorship to-day, 

Who public morals strive to waste away, 

They are exceptions which we must deplore, 

And strive to lessen, not increase the score. 

The soul which feels its might and knows its reach, 



68 INTELLECTUAL PEOPLE. 

Is seldom apt the false and vain to teach ; 
Its spirit, sympathetic with the true, 
Creates such love of God, such love of 3*011, 
That when instruction it essays to give, 
Truth and its beauties must conspicuous live 
In all it writes for keenest public eye, 
That it may peaceful be, and calmly die. 
Herein the blessing is of those who rate 
As Authors, Artists, and esteemed as great. 
If they are faithful to the trust that 's given 
By will of high and holy watchful heaven, 
They must secure a flattering praise of earth, 
When steadfast seen to everlasting truth ! 
Such are the blessings which from Genius flow ; 
Now we will see what writers breed of woe. 



AUTHORSHIP. GO 

" Impelled b}' vanity to fame achieve, 
In speed to gain it, they alone believe ; 
They sharply watch the currents of the time, 
Where float the/wW/c, ever, Folly, thine; 
And with these currents the}' will drift along, 
To each false taste and habit weave their song. 
They do not, will not seek to these oppose ; 
The}' '11 chickweed give, if undesired the rose ; 
They '11 dose their readers with conceits so mean, 
That nothing good, proceeds therefrom, nor clean. 
They do not aim the twig to bend aright, 
Hence, grows the tree unpleasant to the sight ; 
Exhaling poison, as the upas, round, — 
That moral poison which in books abound. 
Yet, though an author does in fact no harm, 
Is flat and witless, neither cold nor warm, 



70 INTELLECTUAL PEOPLE. 

Vending snch manuscript as ma}- be read 
To no advantage to the heart or head, 
But taken in where brains are thought to lie, 
There float about amusement to supply, — 
If such the worthless fruit his pen ma}' bear, 
Useless his life with all its work and care ! 
The drayman or the bootblack far excel 
Such public servants in the cause of well. 
A highly polished boot, a loaded team, 
Is something more than ecstasies, a dream. 
We pay these workers, in return we gain 
Substantial service, not a reading vain ; 
Theirs is a life more worth}' to be praised 
Than godless authors by ambition crazed ; 
And even genius, when it writes on call 
What must good taste and pious minds appall : 



AU Til OK SHIP. 71 

All these stand forward willingly to say 
By pen and ink whatever 's seen to pay; 
Then to the press their ' taking wit ' present — 
The veriest twaddle Culture could invent. 
But what surprises most is how they live 
Upon the public, the}' such nonsense give : 
Yet, when 'tis seen what far too often draws, 
And that ' the drama's patrons make its laws,' 
Should it surprise us much that authors thrive 
With marked success in keeping trash alive ? 
This is a sorrow no one will deny ; 
All feel its pressure, some from it would fly ; 
Yet, habit is all potent through the world, 
Among the j'oung, the middle age, the old ; 
If used to authorship that points not high, 
These lose the relish for a better tie. 



72 INTELLECTUAL PEOPLE. 

So, wallowing in the mire of reading much, 
While learning little from the pens of such, 
Their lives in error drag of every kind, 
By courting authors of ungodly mind, 
Rather than those who are to conscience bound, 
Pure in their habits, in their teachings sound. 

" The 3 r oung of either sex will spend their dimes 
On authors writing only for the times, 
But with remorse pursuing all their days — 
Hating these ' wretches' once they loved to praise. 
I 've seen the fairest faces, fairest forms, 
The gentlest spirit which affection warms, 
Given to reading what never should be writ, 
To demons grow, for evil only fit ! 
Religion's sense, without which none can be 



AUTHORSHIP. 73 

Trusted by any — from suspicion free — 

Was lost to them by books which bid them do 

Whate'er their passions lead them to pursue. 

Imposing no restraints, these works so bad 

May for a price in man} - stores be had ; 

The booksellers, the publishers, combine 

A paying trade to drive in an}- line, 

Which authors follow for their sin-cursed bread, 

While vast the crowd by their conceits misled. 

The pulpit sees the moral wrecks I see, 

But powerless it is, and so will be, 

To. save these readers from those well-laid snares 

The Atheist and Infidel prepares. 

That ' solid piety ' the gown should plant 

Within the soul — its great eternal want — 

It fails of doing through scholastic pride, 



74 INTELLECTUAL PEOPLE. 

So far from Christ, who for us humbly died. 
Why does it not its teachings make ' to tell,' 
And save to heaven what is lost in hell ? 
It fails in this, because so weak in faith, 
Whilst running dogmas fairly out of breath. 
Ah, would it but believe in its discourse, 
In clean white neckties given oft with force ; 
Would it but second heartily w r ho try 
To live like honest men, and nobly die ; 
Would it inspire the trust that what is taught 
Is really that the Holy Spirit wrought ; 
Yes, e'en the trust ; it might some souls reclaim, 
AVhich reckless authorship has sunk in shame ! 
But failing, thus, in bringing these to God, 
While glibly talking of His wrath and rod, 
How can humanity, with Life's large load, 



AUTHORSHIP. 75 

Which bears them clown at every inch of road, 

And heavier is in Christian circles found, — 

How can they feel a sense of love profound ? 

How can the}' or, the ' unbelieving damned ' 

Who '11 not play Christian — by too many shammed — 

How can these minds, I sa}', get much relief 

By aiiy doctrines merely of belief ? 

Let but the jJidpit and the heart conform 

To that sweet Christ who stilled the raging storm, 

Persuade by loving deeds, not talk alone, 

Religion thus would gain a higher tone — 

In dress and manners, and in action true 

To that professed, Jehovah, as from you. 

The charm of love but give to what is pure 

And Christian-like, — we then may hear no more 

Against the Bible, as a heavenly guide, 



76 INTELLECTUAL PEOPLE. 

The good man's solace and the good man's pride ! 

This is the volume which, believed* can raise 

Authors and Authorship to worthier praise. 

I have no patience with those trifling minds, 

Which, in a fling, mean pleasure often finds ; 

False in Science, in Philosophy the same, 

With no religion but the love of fame ; 

Proud of the bravo of a Skeptic's sneer ; 

Of God nor devil, nor of man, no fear — 

Their hopes, their pleasures by this life are bound, 

Because unconscious of a state be3'oud. 

These are the readers of, who ' liberal write ; ' 

Whose virtue 's eas\-, and whose pen is spite ; 

Working against whatever Christian claim, 

May be set up in Morals' hoi}' name. 

But conscience outraged by their wish to be 



AUTHORSHIP. 77 

Without command, O blessed God from Thee ! — 
That they may live a life to evil given, 
And mock conditions to the joys of heaven, 
Will rise in awful majesty at last, 
With stern reproaches for the errors past, 
To strike them as John Wilmot felt its blow, 
The Earl of Rochester — that man of woe ; 
Or, as have millions sneering in their strength, 
Come to embrace the Christian faith at length. 
So may it be, with those who now cmplo}* 
Their every power, to this faith destroy ; 
Yet, all their wit, and all it ma}' essay 
Can't wipe this comfort from the world away ; 
Which Addison sustained, as friends stood Ijv, 
When, said he, see how those in Christ can die. 
I say that books and Authors not in tune 



78 INTELLECTUAL PEOPLE. 

With Holy "Writ — this ever priceless boon — 

Infest the earth with woes that ruin more 

Than 3-ears could number, or than hands could score. 

Then, is the duty plain, to clean the press ; 

To read no books which curse, but never bless ! 

A man of genius is a man of stealth, 

If Morals fail, beneath his touch, in health ; 

And if the public know its interests true, 

'T will bid such geniuses a long adieu. 

"Now, have I spoken, how are blessed or cursed, 

Those formed by Letters and in Authors versed ; 

Nor have I been, ambiguous, but plain, 

Which suits not some whose waj's are dark and vain. 

The error of too many pens is this — 

They'll tell a truth, as babes will give a kiss ; 



AUTiionsHip. 70 

So delicate and weak the)' la)' it on, 

That little else than waste of time is won. 

Truth is a force that needs a fearless soul 

To give it play, that it may get control. 

The silvery tongue which melts through music's 

strains 
The icy heart, where nothing warm obtains, 
Is well enough, its work is done with grace, 
Among the righteous we assign it place. 
But there are pens which will not softly state 
The errors loathed, and which they would abate : 
What'er is mean and false, they '11 surely slay ; 
Nor stop to ask, if strikes like this will7>«y. 
Yet, these are few — who like them not can go 
Fast in those ways which leadcth on to woe ; 
But they will stand where safe, sure footing is, 



80 INTELLECTUAL PEOPLE. 

To conscience true, the highest source of bliss ! 

Oft are they told when writing to he read, 

' They should take care, how what they think is said ; ' 

Yet, care the}' nothing but for what the}' know, 

Out of their hearts and earnest spirits flow. 

If called hard names and pelted, too, with sneers 

By lofty self-conceit, which coarse appears, 

They grieve to see what manners e'en obtain 

With those of rank in Culture's motle} 7 train ; 

Creatures who've managed to acquire note, 

And would all others with reluctance quote ; 

Assured that they, and they alone should sway, 

Not letters merely, but in every wa}' ! 

One can but smile at culture such as this, 

While tempted much the vulgar thing to hiss. 

And now, my friend — and friend indeed thou art — 



AUTHOKSHIP. 81 

Ere yet I close, and sunset beams depart, 

I'll saj", think only Authors serve thee tcell, 

Who have a conscience over that they sell ; 

Kemember, Authorship 's a noble Art, 

The mind should strengthen, grace with truth the 

heart ; 
If this it fails to do, Oh, strike it down ! 
And heaven will bless thee, will thy virtue crown." 

So spoke the Poet ; as he rose to go, 
I said, " Do stay, nor leave a brother so ; 
For are we not akin to all that's pure, 
To all that 's worthy of the mind to store ? 
Discourse again ; I think you 've more to say ; 
Come, sit you down, and give your thoughts full 
play." 



82 INTELLECTUAL PEOPLE. 

The Poet yielded — thus, his verses ran, 
Freely and clear, as when he first began ; 
' What do we see so far in Culture's fields, 
Which to our hearts o'er much of pleasure j'ields ? 
Methinks there 's more, far more to pain the sight 
Than glad it with the happy sense of Right ; 
Methinks there 's more, far more to have us say, 
Fame's thorny path is much too mean a way. 
There are who think that those to Science given, 
Have here on earth, a foretaste sweet of heaven ; 
And that companionship with such must be 
A near approach, beloved God, to Thee. 
In this, again, 't is distance that deceives, 
And robes ball mountains in a dress of leaves ; 
Misleads those minds but little up in lore, 
The famed in learning almost to adore. 



AUTHORSHIP. 83 

But those who know them well, their ways so vain, 

From gushing praise will labor to refrain ; 

Their moral sense is often near to shred, 

And cometh so in getting daily bread. 

Thus, life is seen ; as others the}* must do ; 

Talk science up e'en while deluding you. 

As Doctors, Lawyers, other astute things 

Whose sta}- on earth unnumbered curses brings ; 

As Artisans, or what not, they contrive 

Smart tricks and falsehoods through each day to 

drive ; 
Science with them, is ' how to make a pile,' 
By means we see, too often are most vile. 
The more the}* know, the more they seem to try, 
Their way through life by subtle shams to buy ; 
They '11 figure so, that none but the}* can gain, 



84 INTELLECTUAL PEOPLE. 

While those ' done ' by them, plead their woes in 

vain. 
Go where 3-011 will, look where 3-011 ma}*, 3-011 '11 find 
That science, mostly, adamants the mind. 
Its sweet affections, and its native truth 
(Which ma3' have blessed the hours of playful youth) 
Is chilled to death ; and subject to this guide, 
It heartless floats along life's inky tide. 
Get knowledge ? Yes ; that is the cry around ; 
Be up in all things, in our ears resound ; 
Invade the planets and the nebulae, 
Look into all things, sec what you can see : 
Deivy that God exists ; say, Man 's from Ape, 
And give to morals an3 T kind of shape ; 
Learn but to doubt, though doubt not you may rise, 
Far more than others to be noted wise ; 



AUTHORSHIP. 85 

Let shreiodtiess mark each action of your life ; 
In science's cause, engage in daily strife ; 
Be prudent of thy gold, on friends impose, 
In all their business stick your sapient nose ; 
And you shall rank among those ' able minds,' 
To whom sweet Nature, all her stores unbinds. 
Delightful creatures ! Ah, what should we do 
Without your wisdom and your l virtue,'' too ; 
"What would become of Holy Writ, who knows, 
With you not by to stay its desperate foes ? 
You do so much to favor Christian law, 
To forward justice, and to aid the poor ; 
Your scientific facts are so humane, 
For inhumanity we look in vain. 
Ye votaries of science learned therein, 
/Sb cleansed by knowledge from the love of sin, 



86 INTELLECTUAL PEOPLE. 

Come, tell us who it is that panders so, 
To hideous vice which clouds our world with woe ? 
Who, methods name, by which the laws arc dodged, 
And vicious wealth in sumptuous stj'le is lodged? 
Who does all this ? Whence spring the guards which 

save 
Vice from the Law when it the Courts may brave ? 
Can it be science, that meek, honest thing, 
To aid the wicked, plumes its heavenly wing? 
Can it be science, that would stoop so low, 
To plunge in error those who strive to know? 
Can it be science, which a mother's milk 
Would stay beneath the fine full flowering silk? 
Can it be science, which would dye the hair, 
Contrive deceptions with especial care? 
Can it be science which, in myriad ways, 



AUTHORSHIP. 87 

With follies blight man's swiftly gliding days ? 
Ah, yes, it is, and pit}- 't is, 'tis true — 
That this, fair Mistress may be said of you ; 
But, not alone dost thou in meanness deal ; 
For virtue oft, thou wilt exert thy zeal. 
Some noble souls there are by thee inspired, 
Whose love of truth is all to be desired ; 
Faithful to it, they live and die for Right, 
And those fixed laws revealed by Nature's light ; 
They are the lives without which earth would be 
Cursed with a deeper hate, sweet Christ, of Thee ! 
Would there were hosts of such to crush the sin 
Which Knowledge breeds, to heartless triumphs win ; 
Then would our world believe much more in prayer, 
And in a Father's love, a Father's care. 



88 INTELLECTUAL PEOPLE. 

" As I wade through the wickedness of man, 
And see him grasp at everything he can, 
See him well dressed and fair to look upon, 
By whom so much is meanly, basely won ; 
Read}* to do whatever icork will pay, 
Lawful or not, through even- passing day ; 
Know him in science to be taught aright, 
And with a wit so sprightly and so bright ; 
Yet, find him given to deception, shams, 
I think how much of human life he damns ! 
Learning is well, but morals do exceed 
All we can learn of value to our need ; 
Culture, to bless, must honest}' sustain ; 
Stoutly oppose whatever 's false and vain : 
Schools are but hot-beds of incipient vice, 
If honor there, is seen but shrewd device ; 



AUTiionsHip. 89 

If minds are furnished with ideas to sway, 

With but a pinch of morals for the day ; 

If 'getting on ' is all for which they learn, 

For which they sigh, for which they madly burn ; 

On, on, in school, ahead in business life, 

Whetting their wit, as footpads do their knife, 

That, in the conflict of the da}'s to come, 

Their stabs may tell — be sent directly home ; 

Whereas, 't is virtue then should have the rule, 

But fails through weakness bred within the school : 

Cradle of character to one and all, 

As nurtured there, the}- either stand or fall ; 

As nurtured there, the being winged for flight, 

Rises to naught but ever cheerful light, 

Or, falls where darkness folds the spirit in — 

Those dismal shadows of the demon, sin ! 



90 INTELLECTUAL PEOPLE. 

Then, Culture, if thou wouldst a blessing be, 

Let morals go in firmest bond with thee." 

Here ceased the Poet, and rose again ; 

When, we together walked, where waved the grain, 

With that sweet sympatlry of mind with mind, 

Which makes this life so vastly more than kind. 

We strolled admiring all delightful views, 

And quite forgot the cit}* and its news : 

Nature we loved, b}- her so oft surprised ; 

Her beauties charmed, we ever dearly prized. 

And now, dear reader, unto you I turn, 

Whom I would have of " cultured folks" to learn: 

You 've heard the Poet and so, too, have I ; 

You ma}' his teachings for yourself apply. 

Are you displeased because he's spoken true, 



AUTHORSHIP. 91 

And holds things up thus naked to your view ? 

If so you feel, my pit}- you evoke, 

Since jou can't bear an honest artist's stroke ; 

Since you can't bear to see how small a part 

Oft Culture plays, both in its mind and heart. 

"Well, well, I pity 3011, and hope with time, 

You '11 say — "He 's right, he 's right, the wrong is 

mine." 
And when you see that he has spoken truth, 
By it be guided, if in Age or Youth. 
So live, that when 3011 come to pass awaj', 
Man}- there '11 be who 'd gladly have you stay ; 
So live, that God ma}- in your life be seen, 
"Whose love will keep 3-our inner self serene. 
Perhaps there are, who may these verses read, 
Will sa}- the Poet stands too much in need 



92 INTELLECTUAL PEOPLE. 

Of skill and polish, to enrapture them, — 

And so his verse they will at once condemn. 

But sneers and ridicule, who may escape, 

Who would aright the public conscience shape ? 

Our Poet, 'tis confessed, is " no great shakes," 

From rigid rules, away he sometimes breaks ; 

Nor is he what is called a ' ' darling dear ; " 

So sweet, so very sweet, all far and near 

Flock to behold him, and to press his hand — 

No, no, such homage he does not command ; 

None beg of him a lock of his brown hair ; 

None sa}' thej' love him, even to despair ; 

None throw their arms about his neck and swoon ; 

Feast on his eyes from earl}' morn till noon ; 

Yea, — dewy eve, when twinkling stars shine bright, 

And then is heard "the kiss me, love — good night." 



AUTHORSHIP. 1)3 

No, no, our Poet 's not " the rage " at all ; 

Few kiss, or care in love with him to fall ; 

Still, he survives it, and will write things down, 

Careless of praise, or who may at him frown. 

The friend of Truth, he would have all delight 

In doing wisely from the love of right : 

And if his pen is not exceeding rich 

In " fine conceits," for which the critics itch, 

He could point numbers out they're wont to praise, 

Whose rlryme nor reason never make " a craze ; " 

But, so goes life ; some credit get for naught, 

While others good work do, on credit short. 

Now, from me start upon tlry mission fair, 
Ye thoughts so true, ye children of my care ; 
Whatever fate may on thy flight attend, 



94 INTELLECTUAL PEOPLE. 

The just and righteous will thy cause defend ! 
For it is hoi}', therefore should prevail ; 
Who ma}' oppose, are given to assail 
Whatever hath a goodly form and tone, — 
The}' love the devil and his works, alone. 
But all who stand for Christ, delight in Him, 
And seek to lessen, not engender sin. 
These verses to His honor have been writ, 
Imperfect though the melody and wit ; 
But if there are, of " greater parts " who shine 
Only in Art, as " beautiful, divine ; " 
Whose morals have no glimmer of the true. 
And God nor Christ embellish what the}' do, 
But Satan, rather, to their minds and hearts, 
Seerns better suited to their lovely Arts, 
Then, it is well, who've any power to give 



AUTHORSHIP. 95 

To Truth and Virtue, that these loves may live, 

Nor be crushed out b}* Evil's solid train, 

To wield that power, though they wield in vain. 

Nobler 't is to strike, however weak 

The blow that 's given for the good we seek, 

Than, moved b}- fear, a dumb, dead thing to stand, 

Lest some should jest of Satan's cursed command, 

To see a weakling hitting out for right, 

Willing to fall if worsted in the fight. 

No meaner things are there than those who sneer 

At what they sa}' — " No artists can revere ; 

Because of glaring, painful faults the}- find," 

While, what is worthy, wholly 'scapes their mind. 

Such critics ever are — each age has known 

Their mean injustice and imperial frown. 

Blown up with self-conceit, — mere bags of wind, 



96 INTELLECTUAL PEOPLE. 

Not one in many have an honest mind ; 

But lie in wait, to pester whomsoe'er, 

May chance to need, good will and fostering care. 

An honest critic with a noble soul 

Is loved, revered, from e'en the pole to pole ; 

But they are rare ; 't is oftener far we see 

The false enthroned, and mean as they can be,* 

Who will say nothing in the wa} r of praise 

Of any writing, be it prose or lays, 

From any motive to be strictl}* just, — 

The critic will of something else think first. 

What that may be, to guess is nothing hard, 

He would consider the idea — reward ! 

What ma}- advantage him, that will appear 

The thing to do, the mictions motive dear. 

Well, be it so ; these verses which are sent 



AUTHORSHIP. 97 

Among mankind, upon the Right, intent, 
Are so well armed in honesty and will, 
They fear no critics, nor from them no ill. 
Rather to hearts than heads they make appeal, 
And ask acceptance for their truth and zeal. 



FINIS. 



98 INTELLECTUAL PEOPLE. 



NOTE. 

In these concluding lines of " Intellectual People," I have had 
something to say of critics ; and perhaps hy some I may be thought 
not as respectful towards them as I ought to be. Well, I wish to 
say for some critics I have no respect, whatever; their so-called 
criticisms are simply blackguardism ; they are a disgrace to the 
exalted vocation of professional critic ; and live by abusing authors 
and publishers into feeding them. They have brutally abused me ; 
and now I propose to take them in hand and give them a good 
spanking. 

There are writers who will wait on the good or bad pleasure of 
these "pitiful creatures," with an endless patience and subser- 
viency ; taking from them the cold shoulder or a kick, most resign- 
edly and amiably ; in the hope that by and by their patronage may 
be fully secured. To such an order of aspirants for literary fame 
I do not belong ; and no critic can truthfully contradict me. If 
what from time to time I have offered the public " has not been the 
best of workmanship," so be it; 'twas mine and mine alone; and I 
am solely responsible for it. I have neither begged, nor paid any 
critic, to say what I have written was better than it really is. I have 
left them free to notice my works, as might suit themselves; and 
some have noticed with a vengeance, as will be presently shown. 

But what else can be expected of such "intellectual people," 
who are placed as literary critics on papers and periodicals ; whose 
pay for the service consists, mostly, in what they can " dead beat " 
out of nervous, shaky authors and publishers, and anybody else 
■who is trying to live by serving the public, and need favorable press 
notices. They never, or rarely find fault with the works of authors, 
as they receive them for a notice, whose popularity is general, and 
whose ability as writers, is thoroughly established in the acceptance 
of the people ; even though it would be no hard matter to point out 
in not a few passages, what is exceedingly fiat and oftentimes 
ungrammatical, —without either rhyme or reason. Yet the critic 



NOTE. 99 

has nothing' but words of praise for the works by such authors ; 
playing the toady to these bright morning and evening stars, and 
the " brilliant circle " in which these august bodies revolve. But 
when the works are to be noticed of the lesser lights in authorship, 
who are struggling to become " something more than common " — 
entrenched also in the hearts of the people — straightway the time- 
serving and unprincipled critics, turn upon them their batteries of 
ill-nature and abuse ; and, if anything is left of them, it is not be- 
cause the critic has failed to do his best to destroy them. Every fault 
in their works is magnified ; what is really creditable is not noticed ; 
and wherever a sneer may be given, or ridicule conceived of any 
line or page, there it is poured out unsparingly with brutal instinct 
and heartlessness, and in a perfect flood. 

As a very good illustration of this class of gentlemen "having' 
charge of the literary department of papers," critics, forsooth, — 
I would say, when I published in the fall of the year 1883 my work 
of " The Lost Love, and Other Verse," 12mo., 428 pp., I sent to 
the press in Boston and elsewhere copies of the work for notice ; 
and, in a few cases, I sent with the copy a note in these words : — 

" To the Editor of, &c. 

"I send you a copy of my work of 'The Lost Love and 
Other Verse ; ' and if you find anything to commend in the volume, 
would be grateful to you for a kindly word. 

" Very Respectfully, The Author." 

A copy of " The Lost Love," with a note substantially as the 
above, was sent to the " Boston Post," and the following gentle- 
manly magnanimous response appeared in said paper, under book 
notices : " We have received a volume of alleged verse, entitled, 
' The Lost Love,' by Win. Adolphus Clark, who sends with it 
a note expressing the hope that we may not find it wholly uninter- 
esting. We have not. On the contrary, we have found it very 
amusing. It is the most ridiculous mess of silly twaddle, un- 
mitigated rot, and dreary drivel that we have ever seen ; and a single 
glance at the illustrations in the book is enough to make a man 
think he has an acute attack of delirium tremens." So much for 
that fine gentleman of the press. This, then, is the way my cour- 



100 INTELLECTUAL PEOPLE. 

teous solicitation was met for a kindly word in favor of my book, 
if in any part there appeared ground for commendation. To say 
that the brutal fellow who wrote this notice should disturb the 
mind of any sensible author, would be wrongly said. The impres- 
sion such coarse blackguardism gave me of the "critic" was, that 
he could be nothing but a low-bred nobody; and that if in my note 
there had been some money enclosed, I should have escaped his 
brutality, at least. 

While I feci certain the Editor-in-Chief of the "Post," would 
not have permitted such a notice of my book, to have gone out from 
his sanctum under the circumstances — or, in fact, under any cir- 
cumstances, — yet, unfortunately for the good name of his paper, 
he had presiding over its literary department a fellow not only of 
bad manners, but of bad heart — a thoroughpaced blackguard! 
— since none but such a character would have given such a re- 
sponse to my courteous note. If nothing could be found in the 
book honestly to praise, its condemnation would have, at least, 
marked the instincts and breeding of a gentleman, had a gentle- 
man criticised it. Of all whom I have heard speak of that notice, 
there is not one but has said " it is unwarranted and unpardonable 
abuse, not fair criticism." 

The name that was given to me, as the writer of the same, I had 
never heard of before in connection with Letters ; and I said to 
myself, " Poor dog ! let him bark and snap his teeth ; what possible 
harm can he do me?" When he says, "The illustrations are 
enough to make a man think that he has an acute attack of 
delirium tremens," we suspect that he must have been in such a 
deplorable condition from delirium of some sort, when he penned 
that notice, as not to know it would harm nobody but himself. 
Very likely he was just from a tippling shop, where drinks are free 
to the press ; for such wits live by their wits, and never calculate 
to pay for anything they can sponge out of another. It must be a 
free pass for them everywhere, on pain of their blackguardism, if 
denied. As evidence that this notice was most unjust and far 
away from the truth, I would state a number of pieces composing 
the volume had been published in the " Evening Transcript," and 
other Boston and New York papers, and got there not by favor, 



NOTE. 101 



but by merit. The editors, in some instances, had no personal 
acquaintance with me, and could have had no desire to favor my 
offering, further than in their judgment the merit of the same war- 
ranted. If they had not rated me as a poet, the}' would have 
rejected in every case my offerings. 

If I do not put the music, the fancy, the imagination, and the 
nonsense into my verse, which poets of the " highest order of min- 
strelsy " put into theirs, this is a pity and a fault, to be sure ; but 
people who read my verse will have to stand it. I give them in 
the cause of sound moral truth, what I think they ought to read; 
but, if they won't be at the trouble to read my writings, they are 
at perfect liberty to let them alone. I shall not quarrel with them 
because of their neglect ; not /. I can be at better business. And 
as to those scoundrelly critics ! who abuse and insult me, because I 
am and always have been unwilling to make love to them, I would 
just here say, that they arc not worth in my opinion the powder that 
would blow them out of existence. I care nothing cither for their 
praise or blame ; but against their abuse, I protest. One of them 
notices " The Lost Love " in the Boston Commonwealth newspa- 
per in the following generous and tasty manner. A gentleman of 
the press, be it remembered, is responsible for all this kindliness and 
generosity. Says he : " The Lost Love pretends to be a book of 
poetry ; but after wading through floods of the dreariest nonsense, 
we have failed to find a line of poetry in it. The author thinks 
himself a satirist, and so he tells us in the awkward English of his 
Preface. lie says he writes from a sense of duty. This magnifi- 
cent personage, William Adolphus Clark, would feign be silent, but 
must be true to the public and dose it with what he has to say. He 
appears to think an elaborate dedication is necessary to every poem, 
and so his book abounds in them. His dedication to ' State St.' 
is magniloquent ; and, after this flourish of trumpets, the reader 
turns over the page, and is confronted with the following sort of 
twaddle : — 

' When Justice, heavenly maid, was young, 

While yet in early Greece she sung, 

The Passions oft to hear her law 

Would throng around her open door ; 

Exulting, trembling, etc.' " 



102 INTELLECTUAL PEOPLE. 

These opening lines of " State St." seem to make the critic very 
unhappy, for he goes on to say: " This William Adolphus Clark, 
this 'neglected child of genius,' is guilty of the grossest impudence 
in appropriating lines from Collins' famous Ode, to support in the 
most unconnected manner his own ineffable nonsense." Thus 
wofully affected is this precious specimen of a literary gag, to 
whom the Ode of Collins is — very sacred. " Could anything," he 
asks, " be more audacious ? " Yes, my very fine fellow, the 
travesty of Hamlet; and the setting you up on any paper as a critic, 
who ought to be set down as a jack-a-napes. Further, says the 
fellow : " What an exquisite ear has our sweet poet Adolphus, who 
rhymes "door" to "law," and "overmuch" to "untouched," 
" came " to " rain," " sweat " to " heat," " own" to foam," " bah ! 
ha! " to " her." This point reached in his review of my book, he 
stops to say it is time he should forbear, and I should say so, too. 
He remarks that he would not clog his readers' appetites with too 
many sweets. What a considerate jack-a-napes, to be sure ! and yet 
such a sweet meat as he, is constantly being commended to their 
appetites through his office of blackguard and critic. But he can- 
not, it seems, resist the temptation to say a word as to the poem, 
" George Eliot's Grave," where it is written, — 

" And if she lived as she believed, 
Who ill should speak of her remains." 

This, it would appear, " is calculated to make him cry, until he 
laughs, were it not so much better calculated to make him laugh, 
until he cries." Was there, I would ask, an}- thing ever written by 
one of the " intellectual people" quite so lubberly as this ? " A 
passage so thrilling, puts him in mind," he tells us, — "forcibly 
of a clergyman out West, — not East, North or South, but in the 
traditional " out West " — the blockhead it seems has to go a long 
way oil' for a story — " who," continues he, " when once officiating 
at a funeral very gravely said, My friends, we will now unite in 
singing the hymn beginning — " Awake my soul and with the sun," 
as it was a very favorite hymn with the remains." 

Having fired this very brilliant piece of wit off at me, with the 
assistance of " out West," he appears to feel some better; and gig- 



NOTE. 103 

gling, tells his readers, he had marked several passages for quota- 
tion of the like richly imaginative sort. But he thinks enough has 
been said to indicate the treat that is in store for anybody who may 
purchase and read this book, which Heaven grant no one may be 
so unwise as to do. With commendable prudence the author has 
duly copyrighted his volume, and it is published by the Poet him- 
self." 

After giving me all this spite, he subsides : he thinks he 
has run his reckless, dirty, and dastardly pen far enough 
into my sensibilities. Behind the much vaunted " privilege 
of the press " he skulks for safety ; yet his hide is not worth 
the tanning, nor his scalp worth the taking — who would engage 
for either job ? That any important department of a newspaper 
should be in the hands of such a blackguard, is to be deplored 
exceedingly; and it is puzzling to understand how such manage- 
ment can be made to pay. Here is a wretch, who makes a wanton, 
and unjustifiable assault upon me, as an author, because I have not 
seen fit to propitiate his good will, by some subserviency to his 
office of so-called critic, which I am not in the habit of practising, 
even with those who could do me far greater services than the 
most influential and soundest of critics — then how could I possibly 
pay court to this Commonwealth literary gag i Were I a citizen 
of that sort, I should, no doubt, have many more friends ; but, I 
prefer to get along with less friends, and more self-respect, more 
manhood. 

The stupid, disgusting balderdash, which has been hurled at me, so 
unsparingly, malignantly, and remorselessly, indicates a veiy wrong 
condition of morals and of manners in the direction from whence 
it came. It explains itself clearly, however ; every one must see no 
better treatment was bargained and paid for, then what else had I 
to expect ? It is hardly possible for one capable of getting up any 
sort of a book, be it in verse or prose, say a 12mo. 428 pages, with- 
out there being on some one page or other something worthy 
of compliment, though it be but slight : yet, this Boston Common- 
wealth scapegrace left his readers to suppose, I had written and 
published a volume of verse of which not one word of praise would 
be justifiable. Is it a matter of wonder then, that against such 



104 INTELLECTUAL PEOPLE. 

unjust and unkind treatment of the Press, I am roused to com- 
plaint. 

The annals of Letters give us many sorrowful instances, where 
the envenomed fang of some brutal unprincipled reviewer, has 
"laid out" the brightest geniuses ere they had become strongly 
enough entrenched in public favor, to successfully meet and sur- 
vive the terrible annoyance of unsparing ridicule, vilification, and 
abuse — putting, finally, their heels upon these reptiles and mash- 
ing them. We all know how deeply they planted their stings into 
the sensibilities of Byron, Pope, Addison, and others, who turned 
upon them with a power of self-defence and protection which saved 
them from being destroyed. Put such capacity in authors to meet 
and overcome a pack of malignant critics is rare, indeed. In general 
the rule is, to try and not incur their hostility; but, if assailed to 
patiently bear the assaults and survive them, if possible. Happily 
for authorship, there arc among the professional critics, always 
some who will insist that justice shall be done authors, and when it 
is seen that any one of them is being persecuted, and written clown 
from the sheer love of cruelty, true to the instincts of manhood 
and humanity, these lovers of fair play do their very best to defend 
an author so misused, whom venomous sneak critics, and 
literary vermin, would disgust with their evil spirit and black- 
guardism, and finally destroy. For the honorable and high-toned 
members of the profession of Critic, I have nothing but kindly 
words and feelings; their notices of my publications have always 
been fair: and while they have pointed out what could have been 
better done, they have been courteous in their dispraise ; and cordially 
have recognized whatever there was of merit to note. As gentlemen, 
critics truly, they do not forget in their ardor of attack upon what- 
ever is faulty or reprehensible in an author, to be at the same time 
strictly just. 

I might lay before the reader several more low-bred notices 
of " The Lost Love," but will simply say, none arc more of- 
fensive than those named, while some arc fully up to that standard, 
and others nearly so. But I would not omit allusion to a notice of my- 
self by a correspondent of the " Boston Saturday Evening Gazette," 
of Nov. 15th, 188i, signing himself " Franklin." What Franklin 



NOTE. 105 

he can mean I know not, but if he has adopted as his incognito 
the name of the great American Scientist and Statesman, Franklin, 
the sooner he drops it the better, taking in its stead some other 
disguise. Here is what he published of me, as a memory of Latin 
School days: " There were two," says he, "would be bullies in 
my day; one was William Adolphus Clark, the cracked brain Poet, 
and author of Anisctus. lie was abusing some of the boys and 
stealing their marbles, when Haliburton stepped up and settled his 
hash in short order." 

It will be observed here with what elegance this "Franklin" 
writes — " settled his hash in short order," — and to be found, too, in 
the columns of that sweet-scented sheet — the " Saturday Evening 
Gazette," which pretends to be exceedingly nice in the choice of 
its language and its friends. But to continue with this fellow's 
slang : " Clark gave the boys their allies, as Haliburton said to him, 
" Don't let me sec you do that again, or I will give you another 
taste of the pump, and put your head iu chancery." This was 
sufficient : Clark subsided." 

Then he goes on to tell what he remembers of the other bully, 
one Henry T. Davis ; or, would-be bully, as he designates him. 

When my attention was called, by a friend, to what this vulgar 
and abusive correspondent had written of me, I must confess to 
some surprise, that anything just in that kind of style should appear 
in the " Gazette," claiming to be a very clean thing, and the 
leading literary weak-\y Journal of New England. I should have 
missed all knowledge of this " personal," had not my attention 
been thus called to it; since, for a long time I have studiously 
avoided all contact with that paper, and have never looked into 
it, even for an advertisement. It is altogether too much of a 
tceak-\y, too " previous" for me; too, too, much of a swagger. Its 
wit and personals have very much the same effect upon the mind 
that an emetic has on the stomach — it makes one heave. 

As " Franklin " earnestly invites us to reminiscences, I would 
state the memory is vivid with me, that in those old Latin School 
days the character of this paper was so flimsy, that it was generally 
known as the " Chambermaid's Gazette ; " and among us boys was 
rarely called by any other name ; nor, according to my way of 



106 INTELLECTUAL PEOPLE. 

thinking:, is it any less flimsy a publication now, than it was then. 
As it lias a so-called Colonel for its Editor, it ought to be of some 
account ; yet, I cannot, nor can very many others, sec that it is. 
As I had been published in this paper, as a bully, cracked brain, 
and a thief, by one of its low flung' correspondents, I wrote this 
gallant Colonel-editor, remonstrating' against such abusive and 
unlawful treatment, mailing the same to him, and requesting, 
as a matter of simple justice, that he should publish what I sent 
him in my defence; but he was not man enough, nor Colonel 
enough to do so. One is led naturally to enquire what such a brave, 
and fair-minded fellow is, or was ever a Colonel of ? and if he ever 
set a squadron in the field, or charged a blazing battery ? And the 
response comes : "Ha! ha! he charge a blazing battery, or set a 
>quadron in the field ? no, no ; his forte lies altogether in another 
way than in such military work ; and that is, in securing and 
enjoying a military title without any risk of life or limb. There 
are plenty of such titled men splurging around, who would be 
titleless had it been necessary for them upon the bloody field of 
battle, to have won their distinction." 

This response seemed to me so exactly true and proper ; and so 
precisely in accord with my own observation of titles; that I at 
once accepted it, as the very thing to say. 

In my defence, which was denied publication in the " Gazette," 
I said I was neither the author of " Anisctus, nor did I know of any 
such a work ; nor did I think any one else knew. To my early 
work's, I said I affixed the nom de plume of Anicctus not Anisetus 
and this was the whole matter. As for the story about my bullying 
boys and stealing their marbles, and getting pumped on for my con- 
duct, followed by a threat of being pumped on again, if I dared 
repeat the offence, I said, this story was all a fiction, and I wanted 
somebody's word besides " Franklin's, 1 ' before I would distrust my 
own memory as to those long by-gone clays, and the point at issue. 
I said, I could remember nothing of the kind ; and I did not believe 
any creditable person could. As to the charge made, that I am a 
cracked brain poet, I said that is a mere matter of opinion : and 
where there are so many cranks around in these " intellectual 
times," it is a question if they who charge crank upon others, are 



NOTE. 107 

not themselves even more insane. Yet, though 1 had a right to be 
heard in answer to this libellous, vulgar, reckless correspondent, 
yet, no hearing was granted me, nor was my communication even 
acknowledged. And why ? Because, had my reply to " Franklin " 
in full appeared in the " Gazette," it would have exhibited in so 
clear a light the meanness of all concerned in this godless, grace- 
less, lying personal, it would have added nothing to its good name. 
Not being allowed to defend myself in the paper which assailed 
me, I asked the privilege of addressing " Franklin " in one of the 
leading papers; but the Editor said, "how could you suppose we 
would have anything to do with this dirty business of the Gazette." 
" Yes," I replied " it is indeed a dirty business enough, nor should 
I take any notice of it, but for the fact, that I don't like to be lied 
about, even by blackguards." " You should insist," said the Editor, 
" upon being heard in the paper that abused and libelled you ; and 
failing, should fall back upon the courts. Now, as to being heard 
in the " Gazette," it was evident the Colonel did not intend that 
I should be, and I made up my mind not to press for the right; 
and as to the courts, whoever resorted to them with an)* such a case 
as mine, and obtained any satisfaction worth the trouble and ex- 
pense of suit. 

It, therefore, must be, if persons are insulted, libelled, and lied 
about by the '■'■gentlemen of the Press," and they want satisfaction 
for the injury, they must get it out of these gentlemen's hides, or 
not get it at all, if only one's self-love is affected. But to 
get satisfaction out of such fellows' hides, is often to give them an 
advantage in law which the aggrieved part}- cannot always afford to 
do. In visiting with personal chastisement a blackguard and 
libeller, rogue and liar, the very satisfaction which is sought gives 
only, too often, the greater satisfaction to the mean contemptible 
wretch who is chastised. So that there seems to be no better way 
than to treat with silent contempt, people who have no more man- 
hood than to play the sneak, the blackguard, libeller, and liar; and 
when they come in one's presence to turn from them promptly, as 
we should from those infected with the most loathsome disease. 
But should they become insufferably annoying, then, if the law will 
give to the sufferer no proper defence from the insufferable nui- 



108 INTELLECTUAL PEOPLE. 

sance, nothing remains but for persons so annoyed, to protect 
and defend themselves by all the man there is in them. 

I would not omit to state that I wrote to my old schoolfellow. 
Alfred F. Haliburton (when I had learned of his whereabouts), 
asking what he remembered as true of this story of " Franklin's," 
and he replied, he remembered only the circumstances, but could 
not recall to mind who the boy was he checked as a bully. Sure I 
am, that he never checked me. I think had / been the boy he put 
the indignity upon, as stated, he would have received in return 
for his rudeness such a "Roland for an Oliver, that his recollection 
of me would be very distinct, as the boy who got the pump — he 
would neither have forgotten my person or my name. I was not 
in the habit in those days, any more than I am now, of allowing 
.anybody to take unpardonable and indecent liberties with my 
person. And they who remember me as a boy, whatever their 
recollections may be of that long ago, will not, I feel very sure, 
charge that I was either a sneak, a bully, a coward, or a thief. If 
there are any such memories of me, they are Ity my enemies, who 
can, probably, always remember a good deal more than ever hap- 
pened of those they dislike, whenever it suits their humor to do so. 
But it is indeed amusing to read this fellow " Franklin's " condem- 
nation of the Latin School bullies, and tell-tales, and thieves of his 
day, when he himself is the meanest kind of a tell-tale and sneak 
bully; and, no doubt, if his record could be investigated, it would 
show him to have stolen, oft and again, things of more value than 
marbles, more priceless than rubies. lie is the meanest kind of a 
tell-tale, inasmuch as he went to the public with stories discredit- 
able to the characters of his schoolfellows, some of whom arc not 
living to defend themselves, as I am defending myself against his 
calumny and fiction ; and even if what he pretends to remember is 
in fact true, who but a low-spirited fellow would parade in the 
columns of a newspaper anything to the disparagement of one who 
was the companion of his boyhood, or merely a schoolmate ? He 
is the meanest kind of a sneak bully, inasmuch as he strikes those 
who, dead, cannot strike back; or living, may from a prudential 
conservatism, fail to do so. He strikes, too, under a guise. No- 
body knows, of whom I have inquired, who this sneak bully cor- 



XOTE. 109 

respondent of the " Gazette " is. " Franklin " is something very 
indefinite. If he was ever christened, why does he not give us his 
identity. Such a beauty should not remain concealed. I have now 
done with those who have had to do with me, misrepresenting-, 
vilifying, and insulting me in the most wanton and uncalled for 
manner; instigated, no doubt, in part by their mistresses — a class 
of creatures who have no reason whatever to admire some pages 
between the covers of "The Lost Love," which reflect upon the 
way they have of getting in with soft-headed swains, and keeping 
in until they luive used them up, when they go on in their artful 
hcartlessness and depravity, until death shall put an end to all further 
enterprise in " doing " soft heads and soft hearts. 

Doubtless it will be thought and said by many, the more dignified 
and sensible course for me to have taken, would have been to have 
treated with silent contempt all these blackguards; but some, at 
least, who counsel thus do not know what the trouble, labor, and 
expense is of putting before the public a literary work, and the 
aggravation it is to the author, to have that public falsely told by 
so-called critics, whose book notices it is more or less influenced 
by, that said work is worthless and not worth attention. Could 
people in general know of such experience, they would understand 
far better why it is, I take extreme delight in such a note to my 
present work as this, and why it is, that I would if I could, drive 
every one of these literary scoundrels and vampires out of every 
civilized community in which they dared show their heads. 

" Intellectual people," indeed ! Such culture is doing more harm 
than good the world over ; and what reason I have to write, as I do 
of it, I trust in a measure has been made plain. I certainly could 
wish that an education might insure good morals, at least; sincere 
friendships, and the noblest efforts for social advancement; that 
•' the gentlemen of the Press " might be truly gentlemen, who 
■would suffer no abuse of citizens in their papers; and when injury 
is done any one by an assault therein, give them willingly a chance 
to reply to assailants. I could further wish the religion of Christ 
might be made the foundation of all social and business life, and 
that mankind would deal kindly and honorably by each other; I 
could wish that Law, its character, administration and practice, 



110 INTELLECTUAL PEOPLE. 



might be made a blessing instead of a crying evil, and too often an 
absolute curse, to citizens. I could and do heartily wish all this for 
the best good of my fellow man ; but how unpromising the prospect, 
that a true manhood and womanhood, will ever govern the world, 
and the intercourse of mankind, before Christ shall come again 
and the Holy Laud, redeemed from its desolation, shall blossom as 
the rose. 

Surely, the cultured classes should be able to answer the question, 
when will " Intellectual People " show themselves to be any espe- 
cial improvement, as to human nature, over those who are not 
classed as " intellectual ? " But, instead of being able to answer 
it, they simply smile incredulously at any suggestion, even, that 
the most complete development of the human intellect, can iu itself 
establish, a happy condition of life in any of the grades of mankind. 
Some of them, certainly, have sense enough to know, that the Scrip- 
tures and their teaching, which are the oracles of God, alone can 
do that, as a sincere faith ; yet, they are witness, that this divine 
Word and assistance is being largely by Culture undervalued and 
ignored, as something not proved to be of " any more account as 
from God, than any other ancient writings." Where, then, are we 
drifting, and what is Culture, as a real spiritual and social blessing 
worth, if it does not produce more godly, amiable, and charming 
men and women, more just and generous because of what they 
know, — in a word, because of their "superior advantages." 

If knowledge docs not make lives more beautiful, high toned, 
honorable, and fascinating in every way, — more religious and 
helpful to the cause of Christ, and, consequently, the more worthy 
of Heaven, of what absolute advantage is culture (and the immense 
expenditure of money, time, and patience upon it) to the best moral 
and social good of mankind r In the judgment of the writer, if " a 
high order of education" gives, as its product, a large crop every 
year of irreverence and irreligion, atheism and infidelity, insuffer- 
able vanity, self-conceit, heartlcssness, meanness, and hypocrisy 
't is far better people should study and know less, and love and wor- 
ship the divine in Scripture more. 



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